


Mulled Wine

by midnightprelude



Series: Gift Fics, Assorted Prompts, and Drabbles [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Loneliness, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightprelude/pseuds/midnightprelude
Summary: The South may never feel like home, but a certain dwarf will try to make it more bearable.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Varric Tethras
Series: Gift Fics, Assorted Prompts, and Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606537
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Mulled Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Viscariafields](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/gifts).



The warm, all encompassing scents of cinnamon, anise, and cardamom pods mingled with sliced fruit and alcohol, setting Dorian’s mouth watering as he entered the Herald’s Rest. Varric was sitting by the fire, pen scratching against parchment. A small smile curled his lips as Dorian approached, and he decided to take a seat in the armchair next to the dwarf.

Dorian nearly cast an elemental spell to warm his frigid skin, then paused and stretched his fingers over the fire. Strange, how after just a few months in Ferelden, he’d learned to hesitate over over habits that had become ingrained over years of menial magic use. Watching over his shoulder, to make sure people didn’t see him cast when he wasn’t in the field. As though he shouldn’t use his gifts to make his life and those of his companions easier.

Barbaric. Frustratingly so, to hamstring himself to appease the Southerners.

Not that it made much of a difference. 

The denizens of Skyhold made a substantial effort to avoid him, leaving him to drink alone, more often than not, fearing he would roast their children alive or sacrifice sheep for blood magic or- He tried not to dwell on the words whisperedso very nearly out of earshot. 

A bloody lonely place, the south. Not that he hadn’t been lonely before. Years and years of it in fact, grasping towards impossibilities, reaching towards-

“Something got you down, Sparkler?” Varric was peering at him above thin wire-framed glasses. 

He’d not even realized he’d taken a seat. Dorian smoothed a hand over his robes. “More so than the presumptive end of the world?” He faked a slight smile, waving a hand dismissively. “Perish the thought.”

“You know, you really should work on that Wicked Grace face of yours, if you’re ever wanting to go back to that place you call home,” Varric chuckled, setting aside his quill. “You’re as easy to read as a copper piece novel.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dorian pulled a flask from beneath his robes and sipped from the brandy within. “I’ve tried to read those before. Rather unpalatable, if I recall.”

“Reading the wrong ones, then.” Varric put a hand on Dorian’s arm. “Trade lines just opened with Val Royeaux. Sent for some spices to put in the wine.” 

The dwarf smiled as Dorian returned the flask to his pocket, feeling his cheeks warm at the touch. Varric’s fingers were calloused from where he held his pen. Why had Dorian worn an outfit with an exposed sleeve? When was the last time he’d been touched with sincerity, the last time he’d been-

“I think it’s ready.” Varric nodded towards Cabot, who ladeled two mugs full of the hot, mulled wine and set them before the two men. “Thought you might be missing home.”

“We never drink wine hot in Tevinter,” Dorian exhaled, but the scent of the spices were like being embraced by an old friend. 

“Yeah, I imagine you don’t freeze to death, either,” Varric laughed heartily, raising his glass in a salute. “New homes and new traditions.

Dorian mirrored the movement, clinking them together. 

“New friends,” he murmured, too sober to add that he wouldn’t mind something more.


End file.
